A Little Extra Floof
by FourthWallBreaker
Summary: After Weirdmageddon, Stan finds out that Ford's hair hasn't just become "a little" more fluffy than it had been... (cross-posted on Tumblr; I thought that you guys might want to read this, too!)
**A Little Extra Floof**

The first time that Stan saw his brother's hair explode was after Weirdmageddon.

It had been a bit of a restless night for the both of them, what with the nightmares that seemed to plague them both. At least the sea had been calm, so they were both able to get at least a little sleep regardless of what triangle-themed death night terrors snuck in during the night.

Stan awoke from his after his brother had already stepped out. A hand stumbled for his glasses and he squinted at the clock that was hanging on the wall.

"Can't these things wake me up at six instead of goddam four in the morning?" Stan scowled as he stumbled out of his bunk, feeling around for a coat or something that he could wear over his undergarments. Eventually, he managed to find a black trench coat that Ford had insisted on getting him because of the colder weather, and he threw it on before making his way out onto the deck.

Ford was standing near the bow of the ship, next to the wheel. Stan noticed that the sun was peeking over the horizon and cursed it for being an early riser before heading over to where Ford was standing. Something about the calm morning and the cold, slick deck caused Stan to step lightly and grit his teeth a bit, wishing he'd actually thought of pulling on some slippers or something.

"Hey, Sixer," Stan called over. "What was –"

 _FWOOMP._

Stan stopped short, blinking at his brother as Ford turned sharply to look at him with wide eyes that almost made him look more like a startled animal.

Ford blinked a couple times, then relaxed his shoulders as he let out a sigh of relief. "Stanley, you startled me."

Stan blinked, his eyes moving up to Ford's hair. He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I can tell."

Ford raised an eyebrow at his twin's statement, then noticed where Stan's eyes were looking. Instantly, his arms were up over his head, desperately trying to push down the gray afro that his hair had suddenly turned into.

A deep scowl formed on Ford's face as a low growl slipped out of his throat. "I thought I had this under control."

"Well, clearly you don't." An amused grin was starting to creep across Stan's face. "What, did you get mixed with a cat or something?"

" _Stanley."_ Ford's voice came out as a hiss, which only made Stan's grin widen. "Stop it. Let's go back inside before you get frostbite."

Stan's grin didn't leave his face as he and Ford went back inside the cabin and warmed themselves up and set about to making breakfast. Ford was still attempting to push down his hair, and it finally cooperated when he brandished his brush.

"So, what's the story with that?" Stan nodded to Ford's head as Ford sat down and started eating his breakfast. "I don't remember you being able to do that before."

Ford paused, a piece of pancake nearly in his mouth. He carefully put it back on his plate and sighed irritably. "It's something that developed during my time on the other side of the portal. A 'danger sense,' I suppose you could say."

"Danger sense, huh? Is that why your hair was more…oh, what's the word Mabel used – _floofy_ than it was?"

Ford sighed again. "Yes, I suppose you could say that. I had thought that I could keep it under control, but it seems that I'm in the wrong on that." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to push it down into a hairstyle that resembled what it had been thirty-some years ago, but it simply bounced back up. "Hopefully, it won't cause us to gain any unwanted attention in the future."

"With all the danger we're probably going to get into, Poindexter?" Stan gained a wide grin and chuckled darkly. "Might as well use you as a danger beacon on this ship or something."

"Stanley!"

"What?" Stan shrugged. "It was just a suggestion."

"Which we will _not_ be taking." Ford shot Stan a glare, then finished his breakfast quickly. "And I would appreciate it if you didn't sneak up on me like that again."

Unfortunately, Ford's hair wasn't planning on cooperating, because the next time that they were ambushed by some horrid sea monster (seriously, what was up with all the kraken or whatever they were attracting?), his hair promptly exploded again.

Stan made sure that he had the camera on him so that he could send a picture of Ford's sudden afro-attack back to Mabel. She would _definitely_ get a kick out of this.


End file.
